I followed the path, cows and sheep on the pasture. I entered the village
and was welcomed by friendly dogs and hens. The woman sweeping her porch
stopped and stared at me and the old man reposing in the shade of the
banyan tree smiled at me. I nodded at them, didn’t stop to talk; the road
opened to paddy fields. I walked on the clumps of soil readied for the next
cycle of cultivation, glad I was finally on the move looking at the trees and
fields and not at the blue floss of clouds on my computer screen.